


every breath you take

by Ashtarok



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: A wee bit of worshipping Harry's hands, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Anal Fingering, And a bit of worshipping his jewelry, Basically Louis being all cool and Dom like, Bottom!Harry, Despite there being no actual fucking, Exhibitionism, Facials, Getting caught wanking, Harry's a messy boy basically, Louis' clothes don't even come off haha, M/M, Masturbation, PWP, That's basically it welp, Voyeurism, for sure, wanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-09
Updated: 2014-01-09
Packaged: 2018-01-08 02:31:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1127294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashtarok/pseuds/Ashtarok
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>He was so close, right there on the edge, could taste the metallic coppery tang of blood on his tongue from biting his lip too hard, could feel the tell-tale tremble in his thighs, the clench in the coil of his lower stomach--</i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>  <i> --and the door burst open just before he could ride the crest.</i></p>
<p>(Or, the one where Harry's having a wank and Louis stumbles in on him, but he doesn't leave)</p>
            </blockquote>





	every breath you take

**Author's Note:**

> Basically just a short thing because I really like boys getting caught masturbating... Whoops!
> 
> Also title is taken from Every Breath You Take- The Police
> 
> My tumblr is: racylacyharry and I accept prompts!
> 
> Comments, kudos, bookmarks = love

Harry groaned softly and shifted around in his sheets, nuzzling into the covers and huffing. His hand, pale in the dark of the room, the only light from the faint glow of the moon from through the curtains, curled around his cock, holding it in a loose grip. His fingers twitched lightly on the hard flesh, pulling at the foreskin, and he shivered as arousal pooled in his stomach. He was so horny, felt the need to stroke off furiously, strip his shaft until he made a right mess all over his knuckles, had cum oozing down them. 

Harry forced himself to take it slowly, knowing he needed to make it good while he had the chance. Louis had said he'd be spending the night at Stan's, figuring he'd be too drunk to puzzle out how to get to their flat, and Harry was going to bloody well take advantage of it. His hand tightened into a fist around his dick, thumbing at the head and the wet slickness of the pre-cum gathered there; he'd always gotten so wet, ever since he was a mere thirteen-year-old, a genetic thing that was nearly embarrassing except it saved him from chafing from being too dry. 

Licking his lips, Harry sucked the bottom one between his teeth and nibbled, contemplating the merits of using just his right hand to wank off, or maybe adding the left or a vibrator. Rubbing the pre-cum around again as it trickled down his aching cock, hard and flushed, a throbbing vein running up its length as it curved proudly towards his stomach, Harry let out a low exhale and reached for his bedside drawer clumsily, pawing it open and pulling out a satchet of lube with a grateful groan. 

After wetting his fingers up, rubbing the sticky jelly-like substance until it was as warm as the rest of his skin, he slipped his hand under his thigh and slid in his middle digit. Harry's stomach muscles jumped and contracted as the finger found his prostate after only a few prods, and soon enough he had two more added and twisting about inside even as he fucked up into his own fist. His bracelets jangled noisily with each thrust, and Harry whimpered faintly, the noises he made so loud in the silent house. The air was hot and heavy and thick, stifling, and beads of sweat pooled in the hollows of his chest and shoulders, clinging to the metal charms of his necklaces, swooping right between his swallow tattoos.

He was so close, right there on the edge, could taste the metallic coppery tang of blood on his tongue from biting his lip too hard, could feel the tell-tale tremble in his thighs, the clench in the coil of his lower stomach-- 

\--and the door burst open just before he could ride the crest. Startled and panting, dazed by arousal and feeling like he was trying to muddle his brain through a thick fog, Harry looked up to see Louis silhouetted in the doorway, unreadable as a shadow. His fingers slid wetly from his body, and he dropped his prick like he'd been scalded. 

"Louis," he gasped, staring up at him with wide eyes. "Shit, you weren't supposed to be back un-until later," Harry croaked, cheeks flushed, sweat dampening his hairline, limbs all over the place as he struggled to yank his sheets up enough to cover himself. There was no reply from the blackened figure. "Shit," Harry repeated, running a hand through his hair and letting out a startled bark of strained laughter as he got fucking lube in his curls, matting the strands together. "'M sorry. Sorry. Shit. I'm just... 'M gonna go clean up and then we can talk about it, have a cuddle, and sleep, alright?"

"No." 

Harry stilled, shivering with the weight of conviction behind that simple word. 

"W-What?" he stuttered back, and, _fuck_ , Louis suddenly moved, the door clicking shut behind him with a dooming kind of finality. 

"You heard me," Louis hummed calmly, settling himself on the very edge of Harry's mattress, perching almost daintily at the end by his feet. "You're not going anywhere. You're going to finish what you started." 

His heart was pounding too fast and too hard, beating frantic wings like a caged bird in his ribs. Harry swallowed thickly, only just managing to make out the curve of Louis' stubbled jaw, his hair laying flat in a messy fringe, his eyes gleaming. 

"You're... You're going to stay here, and watch me?" Harry blurted out, his filter still off, considering the fact he was on the edge of orgasm not more than two minutes ago-- a fact he was harshly reminded of as his cock gave a reprimanding throb. 

"Yes," Louis answered quietly, letting the word fall between them, heavy as a stone, with enough weight to punch the air from his lungs. Harry swallowed thickly. _Well. Well, that was that, then, wasn't it?_

Harry slowly lowered himself back onto his pillow, shucking the covers off his sweaty body with a shaky grunt of relief. He could feel Louis' gaze on him, warm and tangible, sliding along his skin like a caress, and it made him tingle, made his stomach coil hot and tight with want, his prick giving another impatient pulse, pre-cum spat straight into his navel and pooling.

"Okay," he mumbled hoarsely, looking down and slowly taking his cock back in hand, giving its swell a comforting squeeze and beginning to stroke, sliding the foreskin up and down, the head of his cock, wet and shiny, peeking out of his fist. Blowing a heavy breath, Harry relaxed. He fumbled for the lube again, squirted some messily into his palm, getting some on the sheets and not caring.

It was so good, so much more, with Louis watching, silent but so present it made him light-headed, made him want to put on a proper show. Moaning softly and not bothering to wait until the lube had warmed, Harry shoved his first two fingers up his hole, whimpering at the silky heat clenching desperately. Rubbing at his prostate made him feel sparks of intense pleasure, short-circuiting every nerve, and he arched up with a rough breath.

A quiet sound caught his attention, the slickly intimate sounds of a hard, wet wank. His own hand had stilled around his prick, just holding his erection while he focused more on his arse-- and he looked up to see Louis had his own dick out, pretty and flushed, and Harry couldn't help another, more desperate, groan, getting properly pornographic. He knew Louis could see his fingers up his own bum, could see them sliding in and out, going quicker, slipping a third digit in as his body insisted on more. 

Harry panted, eyes shutting tight as he let his mouth fall open and sounds pour out, filthy and obscene, fingering himself as fast and as hard as he could, rocking up against his prostate. His hand jerked his prick furiously, going so fast it nearly hurt, and he could only mewl helplessly, voice cracking, as he came so hard he wanted to pass out.

Cum painted him from happy trail to chin, shot from his cock as he shook and fell apart, trembling to pieces as his wrist cramped and his chest heaved for enough oxygen, his mind blissfully blank as pleasure zipped along every nerve ending. 

His eyes lazily fluttered open to see Louis looking over him, one hand flying over his own erection, the other pressed to his mouth, biting at his knuckle. Their gazes found each other, and Louis' body jerked like he'd been stung. Then he was coming, furiously, emptying his balls all over Harry's face, his parted, red, swollen lips, his pretty cheekbones, cum in the hollow of a dimple, dropping from the gorgeous curve of his long lashes, even a little bit in his hair. 

Harry groaned, sleepy and satisfied and way too tired to question anything, let alone clean himself off. He drifted off within a minute, Louis' fingers cradling his jaw tenderly while a warm, wet flannel was swiped along his face, that being the last feeling he remembered.

He woke with a start, snuffling and squirming around in his sheets. Sun spilled from the window, brightening his room so much it had to be around noon. Harry blinked, stretching and frowning faintly as he started to piece together what had happened last night.

_... Surely not?_ Louis would've have been here, defiantly nervous, wanting to talk about what had happened. He wouldn't be alone in his bed, Louis who knows where. _It was probably a really, really good wet dream_ , he assured himself.

_Still_ , Harry mused, as he climbed in the shower and got wet, shampooing his curls, _that wouldn't explain the bit of what was unmistakably and unabashedly cum gunking up his fringe._


End file.
